The Sudrian Saboteur
by Radical sandwiches
Summary: The North Western Railway is inundated with acts of sabotage, and the engines become increasingly worried as the acts continue unchecked. Will the engines of Sodor pull through this crisis? Find out in the first book of "Tales of the Nor' Westers," "The Sudrian Saboteur!" Rated T just to be safe!
1. Another day on the NWR

The Sudrian Saboteur

Chapter 1: Another day on the NWR.

It was a hot summer morning at Anopha Quarry, and Mavis the quarry diesel was asleep in her shed as her driver walked up.

"Rise and shine, Mavis," he said, gently patting her running board.

Mavis yawned and blinked the sleep out of her eyes.

"Good morning, Mitch," she smiled.

"We've got a busy day ahead of us," Mitch said.

"As per usual, then?" The quarry diesel smirked.

Mitch laughed. "As per usual. Come on, old girl, let's get crackin.'"

Mavis went right to work, marshaling long lines of trucks, pushing them under the chutes to be filled with stone, and then shunting them into the sidings to be taken away.

"This is a large order," she observed, "where's it going?"

"These stones are bound for Knapford," Mitch answered, "Percy's coming up to take them down to Elsbridge, where Murdoch will take them to Knapford."

Just then, a whistle sounded out and the little green engine in question puffed into the quarry.

"Hello, Mavis," Percy smiled.

"Hi, Percy," Mavis smiled back.

"Are these the stone trucks I'm meant to take?" He asked.

"Yes," Mavis answered, "The way I see it, I'll organize them for you and you take them down to Elsbridge. How's that sound?"

"Sounds great," Percy peeped, as he headed to the turntable to get turned round.

All day long, Percy bustled back and forth between the quarry and Elsbridge, where Murdoch picked up the long lines of marshaled trucks for delivery to Knapford Harbour. It was tiring work, but the little green engine made delivery after delivery, becoming noticeably more flustered each time, until only six trucks remained.

But Percy had yet to return, and Mavis was beginning to worry.

"I hope Percy's alright," Mavis said.

"He WAS starting to look sick around those last three deliveries," Mitch concurred, "Perhaps he strained himself?"

Before they could speculate further, the foreman walked up.

"Percy's had a breakdown," he stated, "It turns out that he'd taken on some contaminated water that slowly clogged up his pipes."

"Oh, no!" Mavis exclaimed, "Is he alright?"

"His crew dropped his fire at Knapford and Peter is going to take him to the works on one of his heavy goods trains," the foreman reassured her, "so you'll have to make the last delivery yourself." He turned and walked away.

After coupling up to the trucks, Mavis collected a brake van, and set off down the branch line. As she approached a crossing, she saw a red cargo lorry stopped right on the line!

"What the?!" Mavis cried, braking hard as she came nearer and nearer to the crossing. Finally, she stopped with her buffers mere millimeters from the side of the lorry.

"What in grinding gears is this lorry doing here?!" she shouted.

Mitch climbed down from her cab and walked up to the lorry. After tapping on the window, it rolled down to reveal a rather angry looking man.

"Care to explain why your lorry's blocking the track, mate?" Mitch asked.

"So sorry sir," the man growled, "this blasted thing stalled on the crossing ten minutes ago. Been trying to fix it since."

"Why not just call for a tow?"

"Don't 'ave that kind of money."

Mitch was taken aback. The lorry driver had a certain intensity that made him uncomfortable, and found himself oddly relieved when the lorry's engine started up again.

"Alright, well, just don't let it happen again," he conceded, "Now, clear off, yeah? We're running late as it is."

The lorry driver just glared at Mitch, but rolled up his window and complied. As the lorry drove away, Mavis noticed her driver looked a little unsettled as he made his way back to her cab.

"What's wrong, Mitch?" She asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I feel like I did," Mitch sighed, "That man seemed...sinister."

Mavis couldn't help but feel a little unsettled herself as they resumed their journey. Why hadn't that man called for a tow? Or, at the very least, tried to push his lorry off the tracks? It certainly was odd, and her mind was still occupied with this as she arrived at Elsbridge, where Murdoch was waiting for the last of the stone.

The heavy goods engine noticed the diesel's troubled expression, and decided to see what was wrong. While normally not the most talkative, Murdoch wasn't one to ignore an engine who looked to be in glum spirits.

"What's the matter, Mavis?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing too important, Murdoch," she answered as she pulled away from her trucks and switched tracks, "A lorry broke down on the crossing. It's why I'm late."

"Oh. That's it?" Murdoch asked, catching Mavis slightly off guard.

"I...was expecting a bit more of a reaction," she admitted as her trucks were coupled to the back of Murdoch's train.

Murdoch would have shrugged, had he the ability.

"Incidents like those are beyond our control. It's not like you could just push it aside," he explained.

Just then, the signal dropped.

"That's for me. Gotta go, Mavis," Murdoch said and puffed away.

"Bye, Murdoch," Mavis sighed and headed back to the quarry.

Murdoch rumbled up the main line with his heavy load of stone, enjoying the peace and quiet that came with solitude while it lasted. Approaching Lower Knapford, he saw an exhausted-looking Alice at the platform with a football train and winced. Murdoch gave a curt but polite whistle of sympathy to the green Atlantic engine as he passed through, getting a whistle back before he left the station behind.

Trundling on, the heavy goods engine savored the last modicum of peace and quiet as the main line terminus at Knapford came into view, and engines bustled to and fro. Bear rushed by with a growl and a roar, a line of maroon coaches behind him. A rather filthy and very grumpy James passed through with a train of oil tankers. Douglas sat outside the terminus on the line leading to the Little Western with a goods train, chatting with Lily, who was waiting for her signal to take her delivery of empty cattle trucks and grain hoppers to the farms along Thomas's Branch Line.

The black, Scottish tender engine and the maroon, Victorian tank engine gazed lovingly at each other as they spoke.

"So, I hear Jinty's been adjusting to Knapford Harbour quite well," Lily said, as Murdoch tried desperately to escape all the noise and large amounts of people and engines, traveling as fast as the speed limit would allow as he rumbled through the station and toward the harbour, vanishing from sight.

"Has she, noo?" Douglas replied.

"Yes, Diesel's been helping her get a lay of the land, from what Peter's told me," Lily explained, "He sure was happy when she arrived. So was Reginald."

"Aye, we all were, loove," Douglas smiled, "It's alwus nice tae have another Midi here on oor wee island, nae?"

"It sure is," Lily agreed.

"Oi! Are we gonna get movin' 'ere, or are you two just gonna keep gazing into each other's eyes?!" Shouted one of Lily's cattle trucks.

"Yeah!" A box van at the front of Douglas' train agreed, bumping the Scottish engines tender, "Get a move on, lover boy!"

"Ach! Haud yer wheesht!" Douglas snapped, holding his brakes firm, "In case ye gits haven't noticed, baith av oor signals are red!"

"Indeed! I don't know about you prats, but I have no interest in causing problems!" Lily sharply agreed before a smug grin formed on her face," Besides, I'm quite content to chat with my Douglas until the signals do change. Speaking of which, I'm assuming you're headed back up The Little Western?"

"Aye. I'm takin' thes load av supplies tae th' wee engines in Arlesburgh," Douglas said.

Just then, the signal turned green, clearing Douglas' path.

"Sorry, Lily, cannae stay any longer," Douglas said, as he slowly pulled out of the station.

"Bye, Douglas. Love you!" Lily called.

"Loove ye, too!" He called back.

Leaving Knapford behind, Douglas set off down the Little Western, soon arriving at the town of Carlden, where he would pass through the station of said town. As he neared the station, he saw Rachel the Collette Goods engine, a friend of Duck, Oliver and Toad's from their Great Western days, waiting at a signal with a line of flatbeds loaded with lumber.

Giving her a whistle, Douglas puffed through as Rachel gave a whistle of her own.

As Douglas traveled down the line toward Tidmouth, he took in the sights around him. While he and his twin had been assigned to the Little Western for nearly fourteen years, there was something about the costal Branch Line that never ceased to amaze.

By the time his contemplation had reached this point, Tidmouth was in sight, and waiting at the platform was Donald with a passenger train.

"Afternoon, Dougie!" Donald called to his twin as he passed through.

"Afternoon, Donal'!" Douglas called back. The Scottish twins grinned at each other before Douglas rumbled through, now allowed to put on more speed.

Between Tidmouth and Tidmouth Hault, there is a junction that leads to Knapford Harbour, and just beyond that is a single-track tunnel with Tidmouth Hault directly on the other side, where the track splits into two to accommodate trains running in both directions.

Douglas was nearing this junction as he continued his journey, and he began to think about the stories that Colin, Lily and Adam had told him about how they had helped Thomas, Toby, Edward, Glynn and Samson build it during the Great War and chuckled to himself. To hear the three W&S engines tell it, one would think they had done all the work while the five E&K engines sat on their wheels.

"Somethin' funny, Dougie?"

"Ah, jist thinkin' about a story tha' Lily tauld me."

"I'm sure that's not the only thing you're thinking about, then," his driver smirked.

"Ah, haud yer weesht, Aaron," Douglas chuckled as they entered the tunnel.

As they came out the other side, they saw Oliver and Toad with a train of ballast trucks on the line opposite theirs.

"Afternoon, Oliver, Toad!" Douglas whistled as he passed through the Hault onto the costal run.

"Hello, Douglas!" Oliver greeted warmly.

"Hello, Mr. Douglas!" Toad called as the Scottish engine snorted away.

The costal portion of the route came into view as the two tracks of the Hault converged into one again. Douglas sighed contentedly. He never understood why Daisy complained about this part of the line. The ocean view, the sea air, the white, sandy beaches and the lush countryside. All her talk about it being "Bad for her swerves" sounded like a load of rubbish to the Caledonian.

But not even Daisy's inane screeching could dampen his spirits, and he whistled long and loud as he rumbled through Haultrough. Unfortunately, trouble lay ahead.

Up at Bluff's Cove, Duck was waiting at the platform with his three slip coaches, Johnny, Becky and Steven, for Douglas to pass through. The slip coaches had many passengers on board, including Sir Topham Hatt, who had come from a meeting with Mr. Duncan, the controller of the Arlesdale Railway, and was on looking forward to a supper of bangers and mash.

Douglas snorted along the coast as he came into view, letting out a long whistle as he crossed the bridge between the signal box and the station.

But that friendly whistle of greeting turned to one of shock and horror when he suddenly swerved into the siding!

"Losh sakes!" Douglas cried as he smashed through the buffers, ploughing through the grass, rocks and earth before coming to a rest on the beach, tipping over onto his side.

"Bloody Nora!" Johnny cried.

"Blimey!" Becky screamed.

"Great fires of London!" Steven shouted.

"Douglas!" Duck shouted as Sir Topham Hatt ran over to inspect.

Douglas lay sprawled on his side. His driver had a concussion and his fireman had broken his arm. Duck's crew quickly helped them up to the station and called for an ambulance.

Douglas' train was in a right mess. The three box vans at the front of his train lay about the beach behind him, while the three coal trucks behind them remained upright, but sat in the grass in front of the siding. The next two vans and the small flat carrying pipes between them had been the last trucks to derail, coming only slightly off the tracks. By great fortune, the two fuel tankers, the last box van and the brake van had remained on the rails.

"Douglas?! DOUGLAS!" Sir Topham Hatt shouted.

"Ugh. Sirr?"

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighed before continuing, "I realize that this is a foolish question, but are you alright, Douglas?"

"'ow's me crew?"

"They're injured, but they'll survive. An ambulance has been called down to take them to hospital," Sir Topham Hatt reassured him, "Now, how are you holding up?"

"I've bin better, Sir. I'm in a lot av pain, and I'm awfully confused. Why waur th' points sit tae th' sidin'?"

"I don't know, Douglas," Sir Topham Hatt said, anger entering his tone, "but I intend to find out."

The Fat Controller stormed over to the signal box, marched up the stairs and opened the door. When he looked inside, all his anger fell away and was replaced by shock and horror.

There the signalman sat, tied to his chair and gagged with a cloth.


	2. Helping where needed

The Sudrian Saboteur

Chapter 2: Helping where needed

Ryan the purple tank engine arrived with the breakdown cranes, Jerome and Judy.

"Easy there, Douglas," Judy said in a soothing voice.

"We've got you," Jerome added as they lowered Douglas onto a flatbed, then set to work retrieving his tender.

Duck had been cleared through to allow the cranes the space to work, and wasn't looking forward to telling his fellow Little Western engines the sad news.

Daisy had also come down to take the unhurt trucks up to their destination. Realizing how serious the situation was, she took the trucks without complaint, remaining respectfully silent as she purred away, but promised to take the cranes back when the job was done.

Once Douglas' tender was placed on a flatbed, Ryan volunteered to take him to the works, to which the Fat Controller agreed.

"Don't you worry, Douglas," Ryan consoled, I'll get you to the Steamworks in a jiffy, and they'll fix you right up!"

Douglas could only sigh as the purple Gresley tank engine puffed away.

Meanwhile, police were talking to the signalman, who had since been rescued.

"So, there I was in my signal box, minding me own business, when, all of a sudden, I get clonked on the head, and everything goes black. Next thing I know, I'm tied up in my chair with a rag tied around me mouth!"

"So you didn't get a good look at your attacker, then?" The officer asked.

"'Course not! Whoever this was, they snuck up behind me! And he was gone by the time I came to."

"Hmm. I see," the officer muttered.

"Is there anything else I can do, constable?" The signalman asked.

"No, that'll be all, sir. Thank you."

He turned to the Fat Controller.

"Contact is if you find anything suspicious, Sir Topham. We'll catch whoever did this."

"I hope so," the Fat Controller sighed, and walked out to his car. He had arrangements to make.

When he arrived at Knapford, he walked into his office and began looking through bookings for the engines in his fleet. An engine would be needed to fill in for Douglas while he was being repaired.

"Hmm. Perhaps Henry...no. He's needed on the main line. Neville...no. Kirk Ronan needs its heavy goods engine. What about...yes, he'll do well as long as his teething troubles don't occur too much."

He wrote something down on his clipboard, made two quick calls on his telephone, walked out of his office, and climbed back into his car, driving back toward the Little Western.

Later that night, Duck, Donald, Rachel and Oliver were in their shed.

"Ah cannae believe it! Wha would somebody dae sich a thin'?!"

"Can we be certain this was a person? It could just as well have been faulty points," Rachel suggested.

"Ye heard whit th' polis said! They found th' bludy signalman boond and gagged in his signal box!" Donald snapped.

"So someone really DID do this on purpose," Oliver said with growing concern. Donald would have made a rude remark about stating the obvious, but the Auto Tank continued on.

"Whoever did this deliberately caused a large derailment, most likely without a second's pause. Who's to say they won't try again?" Oliver asked to no one in particular.

The four engines were silent. Duck was the one who finally spoke first.

"That's...quite alarming." The Pannier Tank spoke barely above a whisper.

"Aye," Donald agreed.

Just then, a bright blue car parked nearby.

"I think we should stop talking," Rachel put in, "that could be the Fat Controller."

And indeed it was. The Fat Controller stepped out of his car and walked over to the shed.

"Sirr? Is...is Dougie gonnae be okay?" Donald almost seemed afraid to ask.

"Yes, Donald," the Fat Controller assured the Caledonian, "I telephoned the Steamworks before coming here, and they confirmed that Douglas will indeed make a full recovery."

The Fat Controller seemed to know what Donald was going to say after that, as he continued quite promptly.

"You will have a chance to see him while he's being repaired, as will Lily, but I expect you to focus on your work until then. Am I clear, Donald?"

"Aye, Sirr. Thank ye, Sirr," Donald sighed, relieved to know his twin was safe.

"That brings me to the other reason why I'm here. While Douglas is being repaired, another engine is needed to fill in for him. To that end, I've relocated one of the utility engines here. You may or may not already know him. He is a diesel by the name of Derek."

"The chap with teething troubles, Sir?" Duck asked.

"Yes, Duck," the Fat Controller answered, "Since his last overhaul, Derek's teething troubles have been much less frequent of a problem, and there aren't any steep hills on this branch line, so he should perform quite well. He'll arrive at Knapford tomorrow morning. Rachel, you'll double-head the first goods train to Arlesburgh with him and give him a tour of the branch line."

"Can do, Sir!" The Collette grinned.

Duck, Donald and Oliver agreed with this choice. Rachel could be rather forgetful in most regards, but her knowledge of the Little Western was encyclopedic. The Fat Controller made one last statement.

"Now, I want you all to treat him fairly and make him feel welcome here."

"Yes, Sir," Duck said.

"Yes, Sir," Oliver concurred.

"Yes, Sir!" Rachel smiled.

"Aye, Sirr," Donald said flatly.

"Excellent. Now, off to sleep, engines. There's a lot of work to do tomorrow," the Fat Controller smiled. He then tipped his hat, walked back to his car and drove home.

"That diesel better nae cause onie trooble," Donald muttered.

"From what Bill and Ben told me, he's actually quite friendly," Duck offered.

"Oh, a friendly diesel's always nice," Rachel smiled.

"Not wrong, there," Oliver agreed with a yawn, "Now, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm planning on getting some kip."

The Auto Tank bade a good night's rest to his fellow Little Western engines, then closed his eyes and slept. Rachel didn't even have a chance to yawn, and instantly nodded off. Duck joined them in the land of nod not long after, but Donald had difficulty falling asleep. He knew that Douglas would be alright in the end, but just being told couldn't sweep away the lingering doubt.

All the same, the events of the day caught up with Donald, and fatigue soon pulled him into sleep.

The next morning, Rachel sat on in the small yard next to Knapford station, trying to remember what the Fat Controller had told her to wait for.

Colin, who was shunting the trucks for her goods train to Arlesburgh, noticed her thoughtful expression and decided to investigate.

"Hello, Rachel. Something wrong?" The maroon Peckett asked.

"Oh, hi, Colin," Rachel said, "The Fat Controller told me to take this goods train to Arlesburgh, but I can't remember the something he told me to wait for."

"Maybe he wants a ride up the Little Western on your train?" Colin suggested.

Reginald the Patriot Locomotive, who was waiting at the platform with the "Dublin Steward," had overheard their conversation and rolled his eyes. He had known Colin since their LMS days, and the Peckett shunter had never been the intelligent sort. Just then, a horn sounded out and a large green diesel with a centre cab rumbled through the station and onto the Little Western line.

Reginald, mildly surprised, had no time to ask any questions, as his signal turned green. With a blow of his whistle and a woosh of steam, Reginald set off down the main line. The diesel smiled at Rachel and Colin.

"Hello. I'm Derek. I was told to find an engine called Rachel?" The diesel spoke with a noticeable lisp.

"That's me," Rachel answered, somewhat confused.

"And I'm Colin, Knapford's station pilot!"

"Nice to meet you both," Derek said warmly.

Just then, Rachel's crew walked down the platform, having just finished breakfast.

"Ah! You must be Derek!" Her driver smiled, "You're to double-head a goods train with us."

"Oh! You're the something I was supposed to wait for!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Do forgive her, she can be rather...forgetful," Rachel's driver explained tenderly.

"Oh, that's quite alright," Derek smiled, "Nobody's perfect. Take my speech impediment, for example."

"And everyone always calls me a simpleton, whatever that means, but I proved them!" Colin added, unaware of the meaning of his turn of phrase, as he chuffed off to assist Phillip, his fellow station pilot, with organizing the coaches.

"Aw, thank you," Rachel smiled. She could already tell that she was going to like this diesel.

Derek's eyes drifted to the line of trucks that Colin had shunted.

"Is that our train?" He asked.

"Yep! I'll take the train and you lead. That way, you'll learn the line that much more quickly!"

"Are you sure?" Derek asked.

"Positive. I know the Little Western like the back of my buffers!" Rachel beamed as she switched tracks and backed down onto the train.

Derek followed suit and buffered up in front of Rachel. It wasn't long before the signal turned green and Derek and Rachel were off.

"Okay, Derek, this here's Carlden," Rachel stated, beginning Derek's tour of the Little Western, "Just beyond the town, there's a lumber yard and sawmill that we service. You might get a chance to see it."

"I see," Derek observed, taking note of the single track that split off from the main two and led into a heavily wooded area.

Soon, the two tracks became three, with the cavalcade running along the central track. Rachel knew what this meant, and began the next part of the tour.

"That there's Tidmouth," she said as they rumbled through the station, "You could kind of call it the transportation hub for the entire Little Western."

"How so?" Derek asked curiously.

"Well, every passenger service on this line makes a stop here, so it's our main interchanging point. Plus, lots of buses and cabs come here, as well," Rachel elaborated, "more than any other station on this branch line, in fact. There's also a dairy in the town limits that we service."

"You're right. You do know the Little Western like the back of your buffers!" Derek was quite impressed.

"We ain't finished yet," Rachel smiled as they rumbled through the countryside, "You see that junction there?"

"Yes. Is it important?"

"Very. It leads to Knapford Harbour. We make regular fish deliveries there."

The two engines neared the single-track tunnel.

"On the other side of this tunnel is Tidmouth Hault," Rachel stated as they trundled through and emerged from the other side at the Hault.

"And here it is," the Collette continued, "It's a seaside station, so I don't usually stop here."

"Why's that?" Derek asked as they continued on down a slight gradient.

"I don't pull passenger trains. I'm a Goods engine," she explained, "but it does have a yard, so I sometimes depart from it. It's also where our shed is located. I'll introduce you to the others tonight."

"Thank you, Rachel," Derek smiled.

"Ooh! The costal run starts here!" she exclaimed, "you're gonna love this!"

The two green engines entered the costal section and Derek was stunned by the scenery.

"Here's the first stop on the seaside line, Haultraugh!"

"This is beautiful!"

"Yeah! Just like the Hault, I don't usually stop here, but the scenery is breathtaking!" Rachel beamed.

Derek was amazed by the beauty of the Little Western, having worked in and around industrial areas all his life.

"This is...Bluff's Cove," Rachel stated in a noticeably more downcast tone.

"Do you have unpleasant history here?" Derek asked.

"Not me specifically. Douglas had his accident here," Rachel somberly explained.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Derek said meekly.

"You're not to blame, Derek," Rachel sighed, "Now come on, there's still one more stop; Arlesburgh."

The journey continued on in silence until they reached the town in question and Derek was greeted by a most surprising sight. There were three tiny engines bustling about nearby! When he asked about this, Rachel laughed.

"They're Mike, Rex and Bert," she explained as they pulled into the goods yard, "they bring in ballast from up in the hills, and we bring them tourists! There's also a harbour nearby where we collect fish from."

"Ah. I see you lot are kept busy," Derek observed.

"We are!" Rachel agreed as she and Derek were uncoupled from their train, "Speaking of busy, I'm sure you'll be thrown right into the thick of it, but don't be ashamed to ask for a rest if the work gets to you, yeah?"

"Thank you, Rachel! I will," Derek called as Rachel chuffed off toward the harbour.

It wasn't long before Derek was indeed thrown right into hard work. All day long, the Clayton diesel bustled up and down the Little Western, hauling ballast trains, fish trains and supply trains. There was one close call when he had to stop at Haultraugh when the glaring summer heat added to the strain all the work was already putting on his cooling system, but he recovered soon enough.

Duck and Oliver were quickly won over when the diesel offered to help push behind a particularly heavy load of ballast that Oliver had been rostered to take. Even Donald was impressed when he saw just how much respect Derek had for steam engines, particularly when he stated that diesels had a lot they could learn from their steam-powered predecessors.

That night, when the Little Western engines went to sleep, they welcomed Derek as an honorary member of their "motley crew," as Donald put it.


	3. The Saboteur strikes again

The Sudrian Saboteur

Chapter 3: The Saboteur strikes again

Over the course of the week, Derek became a common sight along the Little Western. The Clayton diesel worked hard and enjoyed his time on the costal Branch Line, especially when he got to work with Rachel. She would tell him all sorts of fascinating little facts and figures about the Little Western. But all too soon, Derek would have to return to his post as Utility Engine.

The day began pleasantly cool for summer, and Derek woke up fresh as a daisy. After exchanging morning pleasantries with his shed mates and their crews, he purred away, ready and eager to take an early order of fish to Knapford Harbour. After collecting the vans, he set off.

Once he arrived, Derek left his fish vans where instructed, and set off toward the station itself, where he was meant to pick up a load of coal for the small engines.

As Derek arrived at Knapford, he heard the distinct sound of a train fast approaching.

"Ooh! The 'Comet' is coming!" Philip honked his horn in delight as a large Standard 5 Locomotive painted dark green with orange stripes thundered in, an impressive line of eight coaches trailing behind.

"Good morning, Knapford! Make way for the Vicarstown Comet!" She shouted, gently braking and gliding into the station, coming to a graceful stop and blowing her shrill whistle.

"Hello, Maggie!" Colin greeted the Standard 5, shunting three green Bulleid coaches onto the next platform just as Thomas backed down into the station with his two coaches, Annie and Clarabel.

"Morning, Maggie," the tank engine smiled.

"Hello, Colin, Thomas," Maggie returned. She then eyed the green coaches Colin had shunted.

"Cor. Who's the poor sod today?" Maggie asked.

Derek was rather confused. From what he understood, passenger trains were coveted among engines on this island. Why would those particular coaches cause such a negative reaction?

He asked Thomas about it.

"Those coaches are for the football special, Derek," he explained, "They're unpleasant trains to pull because of the football fans who ride in them. They tend to be very rowdy and sing rude and loud."

"That's an understatement, Thomas," James grumbled as he backed down onto the football train, "These...hooligans vandalize everything in there path! And don't get me started on their antics once they start drinking! Or their language!"

The other engines sympathized, sans Derek, who was still puzzled. That puzzlement quickly changed to sympathy as a horde of screaming passengers swept through the platform.

The Fat Controller came out with two security officers to ensure there would be no trouble.

"Come on, come on, onto the train!" he urged, as the fans, still raising quite a racket, piled into the coaches.

The Fat Controller wiped his brow and sighed. "Good luck today, James."

"HURRY UP OR WE'LL MISS KICKOFF, YOU PILE OF SCRAPIRON!"

"Thank you, Sir," James sighed in resignation, "I'm going to need it."

The signal clunked to green, the guard blew his whistle, and James puffed out of the station with his passengers still screaming bloody murder behind him.

Sodor's number 5 headed down the line, wondering just how long it would be before these fans made him go deaf.

"Phew. Any longer at the platform, and we might've had a riot on our hands," his driver said.

"Just wait until we have to stop and pick up more passengers," the fireman put in, "then those vandals really WILL tear the coaches apart."

"Oh, come on, Marcus, these'll be short stops all the way through," the driver countered.

"Assuming our path stays open, Charlotte," James added.

Fortunately for James and his crew, their path would stay open for their entire journey, but, unfortunately, the fans changed their attitudes not one bit. They stopped at every station all the way to Wellsworth, where the big game was to take place. Arriving at the station in question, the fans disembarked and made their way toward Wellsworth Stadium.

"Hello, James! You look exhausted," Edward commented.

"Not half, Edward," James groaned, "It's like hauling a train of angry livestock, with all the noise those gits make!"

"Hey, mates!" greeted Eric, the number 12 engine and dedicated shunter and bank engine of Wellsworth, "What's the matter, James? You look like you found a penny and lost a pound!"

"Football train," James moaned as his coaches were uncoupled.

"It can't be that bad, can it?"

"It most certainly can for big games like these, Eric," Edward answered as James puffed over to the water tower to top up.

After letting Gordon pass through with the express, Eric shunted the football coaches into the yard, then arranged James's next train while the red engine took on more coal. The train in question was a line of various empty wagons.

"So, where's this lot going?" Eric asked.

"Kellsthorpe Road," the stationmaster answered, "They'll be delivered to the various industries along the Kirk Ronan Branch Line."

"Wonderful," James muttered as he backed down onto the train.

"Aww, cheer up, James!" Eric smiled, "If you're lucky, you might get a chance to see Molly!"

"Wh-what does that have to do with anything?!" James spluttered, his cheeks turning a faint red.

"He's just making an observation, James," Edward put in, "Out of all the engines on Emily's branch line, Molly is the one you get along with the most."

"What's that mean? Obser...obser...?"

"'Observation,' Eric. And I'll tell you later," Edward answered with a patient smile.

"Okay!" Eric grinned, then turned his attention to James, "You're all set, James! Want a push up the hill?"

"That'd be great!" Charlotte called from James's cab.

"Tops!"

Eric's fireman made sure that the V3 tank engine was not coupled up before returning to his cab.

"Ready, James?" called Eric.

"Ready!" James called back, irritated, but determined.

With a toot of their whistles, the two engines rolled out of the station to tackle Gordon's hill.

Edward smiled as he pulled into the yard to turn around. It hadn't even been a full year and Eric had already taken to his position as banker with admirable zeal. Edward wasn't one to think poorly of his fellow Sudrians, but he couldn't deny that Eric's intelligence left a lot to be desired.

Still, he supposed that was why he worked so well as a dedicated shunter and banker. After all, banking was simple enough, and his crew were the patient sort who could explain the more complicated aspects of shunting.

Edward collected his coaches and pulled up to the platform, waiting for Bear to arrive with the local. It wasn't long before a horn was heard in the distance, and soon, the Hymek diesel in question crested the hill with Eric pushing behind. Pulling into the station, Bear braked to a gentle halt.

"Hello, Bear," Edward greeted as a handful of passengers disembarked from the local either to catch a bus or board his train.

"Hello, Edward," Bear grinned back, just as his engine growled loudly, causing Edward, Eric and several people to cringe from the noise. Bear blushed.

"Sorry!" He called. Edward smiled.

"It's quite alright, Bear. Your name just wouldn't quite suit you if your engine was quiet all the time."

Bear laughed. "You do make a good point! By the way, Edward, have you heard the news?"

"Not yet, why do you ask?"

"Douglas is due to return to work tomorrow!"

"Really? That's great!" Eric chimed in, running around and back into the yard.

"It certainly is!" Edward agreed.

"And Donald and Lily are due to pay him a visit today, from what I hear," Bear added, waiting for his signal, when his face suddenly fell.

"What's the matter, Bear?" Edward asked.

"Nothing. Just the circumstances that led Douglas to the works in the first place. You heard the official report?"

Edward became serious. "The cause was determined to be sabotage, yes."

"Do you suppose this saboteur will take another crack at us?"

"Difficult to say, Bear. For all we know, this person could simply have a vendetta against Douglas and his crew, or it could extend to our entire railway."

Eric wanted to ask what a vendetta was, but felt it wasn't the time.

Just then, the signal dropped to green, and Bear was off with a toot of his horn and a growl of his engine.

The last passengers boarded Edward's train, and as the blue engine waited for his signal, he saw an unusual sight. Donald and Lily were traveling light engine along the line toward Crovan's Gate.

"Bear was right," Edward mused to himself as his signal turned green.

Edward blew his whistle and set off onto his branch line.

Meanwhile, at Crovan's Gate Steamworks, Douglas was being given his final examinations, with Victor the Cuban narrow-gauge engine overseeing them.

"Well, I have good news, my friend," he smiled, "Now that you've had your damaged parts fixed and replaced, all that's needed now is a firing to test you. Should you pass, you'll be clear to go!"

"Ach aye. Thank ye, Victor," Douglas smiled, "Ah cannae wait tae got back tae wurk again."

"Hey, boss!" Kevin the crane called from the Steamworks entrance, "Douglas has some visitors!"

"Show them in, Kevin!" Victor called back.

"Sure, boss!"

Douglas was soon greeted by the sight of Donald and Lily, both of whom seemed to be immediately overcome with relief at the sight of Douglas, who looked as though his accident had never happened.

"'Ey there, Dougie."

"Hi, Douglas."

"'Ey there, Donal. Hi, Lily," Douglas beamed, "How's th' Little Western bin daein' wi me gone?"

"We've managed. Th' Fat Controller brooght in a diesel named Derek tae fill in fur ye. Ah hav tae say, fur a diesel, yon Derek's nae a bad sort av engine."

"That, coming from you, Donald, is high praise, indeed," Lily giggled, "Still, they've missed you up there. I've missed you."

"Ah know, loove," Douglas smiled, "Ah've missed al' av ye, too. How've ye been on Thomas's Branch Line?"

"I've been well. The goods work hasn't really changed. I still have to show Percy a thing or two about handling certain trucks, and Mavis appreciates my company in her shed at night."

While Douglas chatted with Donald and Lily, Victor had gone to the front of the works, where Peter Sam had arrived with a supply train.

"Hi, Victor! I've brought you the supplies the workmen asked for!"

"Ah, thank you, my friend," Victor smiled as D261, also known as 'Dominic,' rumbled up the line with a long, heavy goods train.

The class 40 didn't say anything, save for a respectful toot of his horn as he passed. He had been purchased by the North Western Railway a few months ago to act as a heavy goods engine, as he had finally let go of his hatred of steam engines, which had been brought about when witnessing the cruelty of the other railway's treatment of all of its engines, including members of his own class. It was this that made him realize that an engine's worth wasn't determined by what their type of propulsion was, but by their willingness to work.

It would take time for Dominic to fully adjust to life on the Fat Controllers railway, and it would take even more for the engines to accept that he had changed, but he wasn't at all surprised by this, considering how horrid he had been during his visit.

Stopping at Kellsthorpe Road to let the express pass, he caught sight of Emily collecting passengers to take along her branch line. Once again, he said nothing, but politely greeted her with his horn. Emily was equally silent, but gave a whistle in return.

"I suppose that's a start," Dominic muttered to himself as Gordon rocketed by with the express.

With the express through, the signal turned green, and Dominic set off again.

"I will admit, this railway does have a sort of...rustic charm to it," he said to his driver.

"Yes, but just remember what the Fat Controller said," his driver replied.

"I know. Diesels are welcome on Sodor as long as they work as allies, not as rivals or replacements."

Before long, he had arrived at Maron and began the climb up Gordon's hill, cresting it with some difficulty, and coasting down the other side. The rest of Dominic's journey was uneventful, and he arrived at Knapford by dusk. Leaving his trucks where instructed, Dominic left the station and rumbled to the sheds for a good nights sleep.

Once the class 40 diesel had left, Colin and Philip set to work organizing the trucks, marshaling them up and down the yard, and shunting away coaches as the final passenger trains of the day came in. But there were still a few trains that the Peckett and the Boxcab had to arrange for departures, including the mail train, which Philip shunted onto platform three for Percy, the Vicarstown Comet, which Colin shunted onto platform two for Maggie, and the midnight Goods, which Philip shunted onto platform four.

The midnight goods is a very important train that runs to the mainland. It departs from the yards outside Knapford at 9:45, and reaches Barrow precisely at 12:00, midnight. Once the train is dropped off at Barrow, another engine comes and takes it to the midlands.

As this train is usually very long, it is typically hauled by the North Western Railway's heavy goods engines, Murdoch, Peter and Dominic.

But all three heavy goods engines had already settled in at Knapford sheds for the night, and the train couldn't be delayed. The Fat Controller paced the platform, trying to think of a solution, when James bustled in with the evening commuter.

"Ah! James!" He called.

"Sir?" The red engine asked.

"I have a job I need you to do. Now, I know you're tired and I wouldn't ask this of you if the other engines were available, but I need you to pull the midnight goods."

"But, Sir," James began, "that's a heavy goods train. That job should be for Murdoch, or Peter, or even Dominic."

"All three of them are already at Knapford sheds, and the midnight goods cannot be late."

James would've protested further, but the Fat Controller's words and tone of voice left no room for argument.

"Yes, Sir," James sighed as he was uncoupled from his coaches, which Colin shunted away.

"That's a really useful and splendid engine," The Fat Controller smiled.

James couldn't help but give a small smile back.

After topping up on coal and water, James backed down onto the midnight goods. The signal dropped, the guard blew his whistle, and Sodor's number 5 set off into the night.

James tore down the main line. He was determined to deliver the train and be done with it as quickly as possible.

"Easy there, old boy," his driver said, "Barrow isn't going anywhere."

"I'm aware of that, Charlotte," James grumbled as they passed through Crosby, "but I want to get this job over with!"

"It can't be helped, James," Charlotte reasoned, "Fat Controller's orders."

"The evening commuter was supposed to be our last job of the day! Aren't either of you tired?" James asked his crew.

"I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that we'd have to take the midnight goods all the way to the mainland," Marcus conceded as he threw another shovelful of coal into the fire, "Why are you so chipper?"

"It's just the three of us on the open line, beautiful scenery, cool air and a clear, starry sky," Charlotte answered earnestly.

James found he couldn't disagree with his driver's point, and a smile soon crept onto his face.

Soon, Wellsworth came into view and James charged forward with a will. The train was only nine wagons long, which was unusually short for the midnight goods, but the red Hughes Mogul wanted to take no chances. He rushed through the station at such a speed that all but the most eagle-eyed trainspotters would have just seen a blur.

They came to Gordon's Hill and charged through the curve at the bottom. As the climb became steep, the train began to slow down. James was starting to feel the train pull him back.

"No you don't! No you don't! No you don't!" he snarled, and put all his steam into his cylinders.

Charlotte dropped sand onto the rails to give James better grip, and Marcus shoveled heap after heap of coal into his firebox.

"You can do it James!" Charlotte shouted.

James felt like he didn't say it enough, but he truly appreciated his driver's optimism and positive attitude. Taking her words to heart, he struggled on, losing speed, but not determination, and soon they were at the top.

"You did it, old boy!" Charlotte cheered as they descended the winding path down the other side, "We're away!"

James gave a long whistle as he shot through Maron with a confident smirk etched onto his face.

'Nothing but a quiet, smooth run and clear track, now,' he thought.

How wrong he was.

Further up the line between Maron and Cronk is the viaduct, which crosses the Hawin Ab river that flows into the Irish Sea.

At the edge of the viaduct, where the terrain descended into the river, a man clad in a black trench coat and matching fedora hat and leather gloves with a red bandana tied around his face approached the track, carrying a heavy-duty cutting torch.

He ignited the tool, and began slicing through one of the rails. When he finished, he carried his torch a little further up the line and cut through the rail again.

Setting the torch down, he proceeded to step onto the track and push the rail out of place, causing it to roll onto the grass nearby.

Picking up his cutting torch, the man quickly made his way back into the forest, where a red cargo lorry was waiting on a dirt road. He placed his tool in the back, then walked around to the cab, turned the lorry back on, and drove off into the night.

James was approaching the viaduct, enjoying his run and talking with his crew, when he saw the sabotaged track!

"Good Lord!" James screamed and slammed on his brakes.

Unfortunately, it did no good.

James hit the sabotaged track and slid off the rails. This caused a great jolt, and James's fireman was thrown out of the cab and landed in a bush. His driver crouched in the cab as James came to the slope and violently slid down, his trucks all scattering about and spilling their cargo everywhere.

Finally, James came to a stop at the bottom of the slope. His buffers and lead wheels were completely submerged in the river, his drive wheels had dug deep into the earth, and his tender had snapped its coupling, and was now lying on its side nearby.

Charlotte groaned and held her head, a small gash on her forehead. She slowly and carefully climbed down from the cab and looked at James. He looked to be in terrible pain, and understandably so. The darkness of night prevented her from seeing the full extent of the damage, but she knew it wasn't pretty.

"James, can you hear me?" She asked, gently placing a hand on her engine's face.

"Ohh, I feel like all of my parts are broken," James groaned, steam hissing out.

"I'll be right back, James," she said, dousing his fire, "I've got to go find Marcus."

Charlotte climbed up the slope only to find Marcus already on the edge, dragging himself along the ground.

"Marcus! Are you hurt?"

"I can't walk. My leg's broken," he groaned through clenched teeth.

A diesel from the mainland who had been traveling up the line with a delivery of steel saw everything and raised the alarm.

Henry, Rocky and Harvey were all at the viaduct with a team of workmen and an ambulance at the crack of dawn.

Harvey had set to work recovering the wagons, the workmen had helped James's crew to the ambulance, then worked on helping James out of the Hawin Ab river. Rocky lowered his arm down from his position on the viaduct and the workmen soon attached the chains. Once Rocky was given the signal, he lifted James out of the river and up over the rails.

The Fat Controller had come to see the damage. It was severe. His tender was covered in deep dents and missing two wheels, and James himself fared worse.

He was battered severely from his fall, his drive wheels and side rods were in pieces, his funnel was bent, and his lead wheels, buffers and running board were mangled.

"James! Can you hear me?!" Henry asked as his friend was lowered onto the flatbeds he had brought.

James could only groan.

"Sir, he needs to get to the works right now," Henry urged, "he's hurt bad!"

"Go!" The Fat Controller urged, "See that he gets the help he needs!"

Henry blew his whistle and shot off down the line.


	4. A Caledonian return

The Sudrian Saboteur

Chapter 4: A Caledonian return

The sights and sounds of the main line were a blur to Henry as he dashed along toward Crovan's Gate. For all his vanity and boastfulness, James was his friend, and now, he had come to serious harm. Henry was determined to save his friend, even if he knocked himself to pieces in the process. It wasn't even an hour, but to Henry, it felt like an entire day had gone by when he finally reached the Steamworks. The green engine whistled as loud as he could as he neared the building.

"VICTOR! KEVIN! EMERGENCY!" He shouted.

The engine and crane in question rushed out to the front of the Steamworks.

"Dios Mio!" Victor gasped, "Bring him inside! Quickly!"

Henry did so, was uncoupled, and a team of workmen immediately set to work.

Kevin told Henry to wait outside before rushing back in to assist. The team worked for what felt like hours, with Henry languishing every moment. The Fat Controller had also joined Henry once the investigation of the crash had been completed. Finally, Victor emerged from inside the Steamworks.

"Well?" The Fat Controller asked, almost afraid to say more.

"James will make a full recovery," Victor said, to the great relief of Henry and Sir Topham Hatt, but the Cuban engine had more to say.

"However," He continued, "the damage done is severe. It will take a long time for him to be fully repaired."

This time, it was Henry's turn to ask questions.

"How long?"

"At least six months," Victor solemnly informed.

Henry and the Fat Controller's hearts sank. But the Fat Controller spoke to the Cuban engine one last time.

"Very well. See to it that he is repaired."

"We will," Victor replied with conviction.

The Fat Controller then turned to Henry.

"Henry, could you give me a ride to Vicarstown? The 'Comet' should be due to depart soon, and I believe you have a goods train waiting for you there."

"Of course. Hop in, Sir."

The Fat Controller climbed aboard, and Henry set off for Vicarstown.

Arriving at the colossal station amidst a frenzy of trains coming and going, Henry dropped the Fat Controller off and set off for the goods yard. Sir Topham Hatt looked around the station, trying to spot a certain engine. On one platform, he saw Flying Scotsman pulling a long tour train. On another, a large Deltic diesel brought in an express from the mainland. Finally, he spotted the green Standard 5 he was looking for and rushed over.

"Maggie! Maggie!" He called.

"Can I help you Sir?" She asked.

"Yes, please. I need a ride to Knapford. There's been a derailment by the viaduct, and I need to make arrangements and an announcement," he explained.

"Oh, no, who was it, Sir?" Maggie asked.

"James. But he's already at the works," the Fat Controller reassured her.

"Thank you, Sir," Maggie sighed as he climbed aboard one of her coaches.

The signal turned green, Maggie blew her whistle and set off.

The Vicarstown Comet is an express service on the North Western Railway that runs twice a day and is typically pulled by Maggie, though Gordon and Carol have filled in for her now and then. The morning service that the Fat Controller had boarded begins at 7:00 at Barrow-in-Furness, makes one stop at Vicarstown, and then travels nonstop all the way to Knapford. The evening service begins at 8:00 and travels the opposite direction.

Maggie thought deeply as she raced through the countryside, her smart, crimson MK 1 coaches gently swaying behind her. Her driver noticed how quiet she was being.

"What's the matter, Maggie? You're usually much more talkative."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Chuck," she replied, "Just thinking about what the Fat Controller said."

"Do you think it might have something to do with whoever caused Douglas's derailment?" Chuck asked.

"I hope not," Maggie replied, "but it seems likely. First Douglas, then James, what's next?"

"I don't know," Chuck answered after a pause, "and I hope we don't find out."

The Standard 5 remained quiet for some time, save for whistles of greeting to the engines she passed.

She greeted Rheneas at Crovan's Gate, Emily at Kellsthorpe Road, Peter at Kellaby, and Stepney at Killdane. When she reached Cronk, the signal shone yellow, instructing her to slow down.

Maggie slowly made her way along the path between Cronk and Maron, and was given quite a shock when she reached the viaduct. There, on the other side of the great stone bridge, was Norman with the track repair crew, working on a small section of the line.

"What happened?" Maggie asked as she crossed the viaduct.

"Alas, a crime most foul, Margret," Norman sighed, "A contemptible and unfortunately anonymous mongrel sabotaged the rails, leading our James and his crew to pain and misfortune."

"So it WAS another act of sabotage," Maggie sighed as she passed Norman, now allowed to put on more speed, "Take care, Norman!" She called.

"You as well!" The diesel called back.

Maggie charged through Maron and up and over Gordon's Hill, quite troubled. There had been concerns about the person who had caused Douglas's accident before, but now it had been all but confirmed that this criminal, whoever they were, had the entire railway in their sights. As she passed through Wellsworth, she gave a half-hearted whistle to BoCo and Eric, and gave another to Alice at Crosby, her mood not improving. Thomas was the first to whistle at her as she thundered through Elsbridge, snapping her out of her brooding just in time for her to give the little blue tank engine a whistle in return.

Continuing along the line, Maggie couldn't help but wonder how the Fat Controller would break the news. Would he gather all the engines at Crovan's Gate, or would he organize a press conference? Perhaps he would announce this grim report on the radio or television?

As she rushed through Lower Knapford, she passed by Dominic at the oil depot collecting a train of petrol. The whistle and honk exchanged between them wasn't friendly, but it was polite.

'That's some good news, at least,' Maggie thought to herself, 'Old "Bowler" is finally starting to see sense.'

Soon enough, she arrived at Knapford itself, blowing her whistle as she gently braked to a stop. On the platform next to her was a dark blue King Class Locomotive with white stripes, an early BR crest on her tender, and nameplates that read "King George VI." Maggie smiled at Sodor's number 19 and Gordon's co-premiere express engine.

"Morning, Carol."

"Good morning, Maggie," Carol replied in the West Country accent she shared with Duck, Oliver, Rachel and Toad.

"I wish it was," Maggie sighed as her passengers ambled out of her coaches.

"What's wrong?" Carol asked as Philip shunted the Wild Nor' Wester behind her.

"James had an accident last night," Maggie answered sadly, "He's at the works now."

"Oh, dear," Carol whispered.

"The Fat Controller rode up here on my train. Said he was gonna make an announcement about that later," Maggie further elaborated.

"Did he say how bad it was?" Colin asked as he ran out to shunt Maggie's coaches once her fireman had uncoupled her.

"No. But with how grim he seemed, it can't be good," Maggie answered.

"Ach! First Dougie, noo James! Whatever next?!" Donald burst out.

"What happened to James?" Percy asked as he pulled in with a line of empty trucks.

"Waur ye nae listenin'? he's hud an accident!"

"Oh, no!"

"The Fat Controller told me he's already at the works," Maggie reassured, "and he'll make an announcement about it later."

"Oh," Percy sighed with relief as he ran to the turntable, "Did...did he say what caused it?"

"Tha's a guid question," Donald said, "Whit did cause James's accident?"

"No, he didn't. But I saw Norman repairing the track by the viaduct, and he said it was sabotage," Maggie answered grimly.

The engines were silent for a short while.

"Blimey. There's a serial saboteur on the loose," Carol murmured in alarm as her signal turned green. Tooting her whistle, Carol snorted out of the station.

Colin and Philip had been silent throughout most of the conversation, but spoke up when the tense mood had lessened.

"Uh, Maggie, your coaches are uncoupled," Colin called as he shunted them toward the carriage sidings.

"And we're supposed to go to the harbour for our next job," her driver added.

"Oh! Right! Sorry, everyone! Gotta go!" And Maggie chuffed off to the harbour.

"Hey, Percy!" Philip called, shunting a line of three flatbeds loaded with logs.

"Yes, Philip?" The saddle tank replied.

"These logs are headed for Toryreck. Can you take them there?"

"Sure!" Percy answered, backing down onto the flatbeds.

"Great! Just wait there for a moment, I'll get you a brake van!" Philip grinned, rolling back into the yard to fetch one. He returned shortly and shunted it onto the back of Percy's train, and a guard boarded once the van was coupled up.

"Okay, Percy! You're all set!" Philip called as he backed away.

"Thank you!" Percy called back, then waited for his signal. With Knapford beginning to get busy, Percy knew it might be a few minutes before his path was open. So, he decided to pass the time by talking with Donald, who had picked up a line of branch line coaches.

"Say, Donald, you've been there a little while," he observed, "shouldn't your path have opened by now? I mean, you are pulling passengers."

"Och aye, Percy, it shood hae. Oliver was due tae come through wi' a ballest train an hoor ago!"

Almost as if on cue, Oliver came into view. The Great Western tank engine seemed to be struggling. His face was red and thick smoke poured out of his funnel. More surprising was Derek pushing behind the long line of ballast trucks.

"Hold them back! Hold them back! Hold them back!" The trucks laughed.

Donald suddenly didn't feel so frustrated at Oliver anymore.

"Sorry...sorry we're...late...Donald," Oliver gasped as he pulled into the yard.

"Ah, never ye mind, Oliver," Donald said, "Yon ballast trucks are a reit horrid lot!"

The troublesome trucks just kept laughing as the signal dropped and Donald puffed away, glaring deeply at them.

"Thank you...for helping us...Mister Derek," Toad panted.

"It's...no...trouble," Derek gasped out, "Although...I think...I'll need...a few minutes...to cool down."

"You certainly will," Derek's driver agreed as she climbed down from his cab and began inspecting her diesel, "You nearly overheated your engines. You'll need at least half an hour to cool down."

"Oh, grease and oil," Derek sighed.

"Look on the bright side, Derek. At least you didn't break down," Percy offered.

"Thank you, Percy," Derek smiled.

"You're welcome," Percy peeped as his signal dropped, "Oh! Bye, Derek!"

Blowing his whistle, Percy set off from Knapford to the Ffarquhar Branch Line. Chuffing over the Elm river, Percy whistled hello to all the people fishing and picnicking by the riverside, a greeting he repeated to the workers at the water mill as he passed. Steaming through Dryaw, his mind wandered back to when he and Harold had their race all those years ago and smiled. This was one of the many reasons he loved working on Sodor. Life on this small island created so many memories. As Percy approached Toryreck station, he was switched onto a siding.

"Why are switched off, George?" Percy asked his driver as he braked to a stop.

"We have to wait until Toby passes," he answered.

The little green engine waited for a few minutes until Toby came into view, trundling slowly but smoothly along the line.

"Hi, Toby! Hi, Henrietta!" Percy called, blowing his whistle.

"Hello, Percy!" They called back as they passed and Toby rang his bell.

Percy set off again once his path had reopened and made his way up to the Toryreck sawmill.

Once he arrived, he was switched onto the siding that connected to a small hault the sawmill used for loading and unloading. As the workmen began unloading the logs, Percy waited for Lily to pass through with her delivery of grain, cows, pigs and sheep. He waited and waited. He and his crew soon began to grow impatient.

"Where is she?" George grumbled, looking at his watch, "The workmen are already halfway through unloading our flatbeds and there's not a sight nor sound of that Victorian tin pot!"

"Oh, leave off, Carlin," Percy's fireman snapped, "I'm sure she's got a good reason."

"Kyle's right," Percy agreed, "Lily isn't one to dawdle."

And Percy was right. Only five minutes later, Lily charged through with a face like a storm cloud and didn't even acknowledge Percy. Sodor's number 17 angrily bucketed along the branch line, trying to make up for lost time. Unfortunately, it did little good. By the time Lily reached Knapford, she was very late, and there on the platform, was the Fat Controller.

"Well, Lily," he said crossly, "what time do you call this?"

"I know, Sir, I know. I'm late," Lily responded, trying to stay professional.

"I hope you have a good reason," the Fat Controller continued.

"Some vandal went bonkers on farmer Trotter's pig fence with an axe. By the time Trotter had rounded up all his pigs, I was already an hour behind schedule waiting for him and suffered even more delay when the grain chute at McColl's Farm malfunctioned. That took another hour to fix!"

"Hm. I see," the Fat Controller pondered, no longer cross at the Victorian tank engine, "It would seem you've had a difficult time of it, Lily."

"Indeed, Sir," Lily sighed as she was uncoupled.

"Well, I hope farmer McColl knows he needs to keep his equipment maintained if he wants to keep his contract with us," the Fat Controller grumbled, "and Trotter should call the authorities about that vandal."

"He did, Sir," Lily said as she moved onto the turntable and was turned around, "I saw him talking to a constable as I left."

"That's good," The Fat Controller said, nodding as he headed back into his office.

Lily puffed off the turntable and waited for Colin or Philip to arrange her train of empty trucks for Anopha Quarry. She wouldn't have minded fetching them herself, but Colin and Philip had a system they worked with and preferred that they do the shunting, marshaling and fetching around Knapford.

As Lily waited, she observed several engines coming and going from the big station. Murdoch came through hauling a long, heavy goods train while Alice arrived to collect the Branch Line flyer and Henry trundled by with a load of coal and petrol. Thomas and Duck arrived in quick succession of each other with their respective coaches and Daisy followed close behind just before Carol thundered into the station with the Wild Nor' Wester, then ran to the turntable while Neville chuffed in with a short train of twin silo wagons, which Colin quickly shunted as Philip marshaled Lily's train.

"Afternoon, Lily," Neville smiled as Daisy and Thomas departed.

"Afternoon, Neville," Lily sighed as Philip shunted her train into position and her fireman coupled her up.

"Something wrong?" The Q1 asked, and Lily explained the delays her farm delivery suffered.

"Cor. Talk about a hard time of it," Neville said once Lily had finished her story.

"Too right," she sighed.

She was just about to continue on about what a shoddy state the farms were in when a deep whistle sounded out just as Carol headed off down the main line again with the express.

Lily's eyes sparkled and a broad smile spread across her face.

"I'd know that whistle anywhere in the world!"

And Lily was right. Douglas rumbled up the main line and glided to a halt at the station platform.

"Douglas! You're back!" Alice, Colin, Philip and Neville cried.

"Aye, lads! An' Ah feel better than ever!" Douglas boomed. His expression then softened as he shifted his gaze to Lily.

"Sorry Ah worried ye sae much."

"I'm just happy to see you back under your own steam, Douglas," Lily smiled, gazing at the black Caledonian engine.

"As am Ah, Lily," Douglas smiled back, meeting the maroon Victorian engine's gaze.

"Should we leave you two alone?" Philip smirked while Alice giggled at the display as she followed behind Carol with her passenger train.

"Haud yer weesht, Philip," scowled Douglas. But he couldn't stay cross.

"Ach! Ah'd loove tae stay an' chat, but Ah'm due on th' Little Western! But dinnae fash yersel, We'll hae plenty ay time tae catch up later! Loove ye, Lily!"

"Love you, too, Douglas!" Lily called back as Douglas raced along the Little Western, where he was greeted by a deafening chorus of whistles and honks from all the engines in the shed.


	5. The Announcement

The Sudrian Saboteur

Chapter 5: The announcement

While Douglas's return was a source of joy on the North Western Railway, the announcement that the Fat Controller made soon after was not. It was broadcast on television and radio all across the island and even

in some places on the mainland that the railway had indeed suffered sabotage twice now, and that, while James would make a full recovery and return to work, his repairs would take at least half a year's time.

The Fat Controller also put heavy emphasis on the state of James's crew. His driver, Charlotte Green, had suffered mild head trauma, and Marcus Moffat, his fireman, had a broken leg. They, fortunately, would also make a full recovery and return to work around the same time as their engine.

...

"Blimey," Ryan breathed as he, Daisy and their crews listened to the broadcast in the Arlesburgh Harbour shed, "Who could do such a thing?"

"A person with plenty of resentment and no concept of consequences," Daisy scoffed in disgust, "And clearly not a care about who could be hurt!""

...

"Do you think this person would attack us?" Bert asked at Arlesburgh West sheds.

"It's possible," Rex mused, "We do provide ballast for the railways here on Sodor. And wool for various shops."

"Best they don't run into me for their sake," growled Mike.

...

"Losh sakes," Douglas murmured, "Six months."

"Poor sod," Donald sighed.

"And by sabotage, no less," Duck added.

"Where did James have his accident, again?" Rachel asked, worried, but confused.

"On the viaduct, Rachel," Oliver explained patiently, steaming up for the mail train.

"I hope nobody blames James for this," Derek sighed. This wasn't exactly how he'd hoped to spend his last night on the Little Western.

"I'm sure nobody does," Duck concurred as Oliver's driver climbed into her engine's cab and let him know he was ready.

"Evening, all," Oliver sighed as he puffed out of the shed and then backed down onto Toad, whose guard had already boarded, "Come on, Toad."

"Right away, Mister Oliver," Toad said as they headed off into the night.

"Take care," Duck called after them, getting a whistle in thanks.

...

"Oh, dear," Toby sighed. Accidents weren't uncommon, he had to admit, but they were mostly caused by human error, equipment malfunctions, the troublesome trucks, acts of God beyond their control, or just the engines themselves. This was a new type of danger.

"Well, that's encouraging," Lily grumbled. She and Mavis had taken the berths next to Toby in Ffarquhar sheds to listen to the broadcast, as Thomas and Percy were taking the mail tonight and would sleep elsewhere.

"But James'll be back, Lily," Percy countered as he and Thomas steamed out of the shed yard.

"Percy's right," Thomas added, "And his crew will, too. The Fat Controller wouldn't say that if he wasn't certain."

"Take care, you two," Mavis called.

"We will!" The two tank engines called back as they headed down to Knapford.

...

"Who do you suppose this saboteur could be?" BoCo asked.

"Difficult to say at the moment," Edward answered at the Wellsworth sheds, "It could be anyone from a former employee with a grudge to an extreme environmentalist."

"Probably some tosser up at the Other Railway's head office," Adam the Radial tank engine grumbled, "They couldn't coerce the Fat Controller into modernization, so they're taking matters into their own bean-counting hands."

"We don't know that," countered April the Branch line diesel, "I think Edward's right, a former employee is more likely."

"But Adam does raise a good point," BoCo mused, "British Railways executives have been to our island before. I once overheard a couple of them bending the Fat Controller's ear about withdrawing all the steam engines and replacing them with diesels. And these two recent accidents both involved steam engines."

"I doubt that British Railways would actually attempt to undermine us," Edward put in, "The Prime Minister himself promised on radio and live television that no living engines would be scraped as a result of the modernization plan."

"Hasn't stopped them from trying. Don't you remember that those 'Rail Slicer' monsters were secretly being supported by Other Railway higher ups?" Adam pointed out, "Oliver and Toad were in their horrid clutches as a mobile workshop for ten bloody years!"

The sheds fell silent. The engines had a lot to think about.

...

"Ah cannae believe it," Emily sighed, as she settled into the Kirk Ronan sheds for the night, "It's one thin' fer confusion an' delay tae happen on its own, but fer someone tae deliberately dae sich a thin?!"

"It's an outrage, to be sure, Emily," Neville agreed, "but there's not much we can do about it."

"I agree w-with Neville," Molly gently put in, "Th-this is b-b-best left to the p-police."

"Here, here," agreed Odd-Job the Class 14 diesel shunter, "It's not like we can leave the rails and take the criminal in ourselves."

"By th' way, where's Stafford?" Emily asked, conceding to her shed mates point and choosing to change the subject, "It doesnae feel reit nae havin' 'im here in th' sheds wi' us."

"He's spending the night at the power station to recharge his batteries," Neville explained, "Once a charger gets installed here, he'll be our shed mate, good and proper."

"Th-that's good," Molly smiled.

The Kirk Ronan engines then went off to sleep, knowing that a full day of work awaited them in the morning.

...

Arthur, unfortunately, didn't have any such company, being the sole engine on the Norramby Branch Line. He didn't mind that for the most part, but it could get lonely from time to time, and this certainly was one of those times.

"I'd easily trade in my spotless record if it meant this whole mess were sorted out," he sighed to himself in his shed before falling asleep.

...

"What happens now?" Maggie asked, returning to Knapford sheds for the night.

"As cruel as it may seem, we must carry on with our duties," Dominic answered, not affected by the glares he received.

"Not the words I would use," Peter put in, "but I do agree with him. We have to keep at it. I'm just as concerned as the next engine, but we can't let this distract us."

"And the Fat Controller did say James and his crew would return to service," Gordon added.

"And what about this saboteur?" asked Henry, "He's made it pretty clear that he's not going to stop."

"There'll probably be coppers skulking about the railway now," Carol said, "I hope they sort this out soon."

"I wonder what the Fat Controller will do about James's absence?" Alice pondered aloud.

"Maybe he'll relocate one of the utility engines here to cover his duties?" Bear offered.

"I hope he doesn't chose Derek," said Hugo the Ivatt Mogul, "That poor sod'll break down every time he tackles Gordon's Hill!"

"Perhaps he'll chose Kate," Maggie suggested, referring to the Lancashire & Yorkshire tank engine who usually worked at the Crosby coal mine.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that," Reginald grinned.

"I second that," Hugo put in.

"Third," Peter smiled.

Gordon grumbled under his breath, making mention about 'too many Midis for his liking,' or something to that effect.

The main line engines talked for a short while longer before drifting off uneasily to sleep.

Thomas, Percy, and Oliver were in a similar state of as they carried out their mail deliveries, as was Murdoch, who was taking the midnight goods. Fortunately for them, they would complete their jobs without a hitch, and slept soundly, albeit with troubled thoughts in their smoke boxes.

The next morning, as the engines set about their work, they found out in short order that the newspapers had quite eagerly lapped up the Fat Controller's announcement and already published several articles.

"Look at this!" Eric's driver exclaimed, holding up a copy of the 'Sodor Gazette.'

"Sudrian Saboteur attacks the North Western Railway twice in one month," Edward read aloud as he collected his coaches.

"Typical media sensationalism. Capitalizing on the misfortune of others just to sell their papers," Eric's driver grumbled.

"That is what newspapers do, unfortunately," Edward sighed as a group of schoolgirls boarded his train.

"Where're those kids going?" Eric asked as he marshaled a line of trucks.

"These children are headed for Brendam Girls School," Edward explained as he waited for his signal, "Adam and I take it in turns to bring them to and from the school with Bertie."

"With Bertie?" Eric asked, curious.

"Adam and I collect the children from here down to Upper Brendam," Sodor's number 2 elaborated, "Bertie brings them up from Brendam."

"Oh."

Just then, BoCo hummed through with a long line of china clay wagons and empty vans and tankers up the main line, tooting his horn in greeting as he passed. Following close behind was a Class 5 L&YR tank engine hauling a line of coal trucks behind her. She was painted in LMS maroon.

"Good morning, Kate," Edward smiled as the signal dropped.

"Morning, Kate," Eric whistled.

"Hi, Edward, Eric!" Kate whistled back, stopping at the station as Edward departed down his branch line.

"Where're you taking that coal?" Eric asked as he arranged a passenger train.

"Knapford Sheds," Kate answered, "Gotta give the big engines their coal!"

"Yes, you do!" Eric laughed as the signal turned green and the L&YR tank engine chuffed away.

As Kate arrived at Knapford station, the signal turned red, halting her at the platform. Seeing her stop, the Fat Controller walked up to her.

"Ah, Kate! Just the engine I was looking for!" He said.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Kate asked.

"Yes. As I'm sure you've heard, James has had an accident and been sent for repairs," the Fat Controller explained, "So, I need you to cover his duties until he returns."

"But Sir, who will work at the coaling plant?"

"I've arranged for Derek to fill in for you for the time being. You'll start with an afternoon commuter train once you've finished this delivery."

"Alright, Sir," Kate said as her signal turned green, setting off.

Arriving at the large fifteen-berth shed, Kate's trucks were uncoupled near the coal bunker, and the Class 5 tank engine puffed onto the turntable. Once she had been turned around, Kate ventured into the sidings and collected her coaches, returning to Knapford station to collect her passengers and her driver went to fetch a new timetable.

"How're you holding up, old girl?" Her fireman asked as the passengers boarded their train.

"I'm fine, George. Although, I must say, I'm a tad nervous," Kate admitted, "I don't usually handle main line duties outside of my coal deliveries."

"No shame in that," George comforted, "But I think you'll do fine. You've got years of experience in your firebox."

"He's right," her driver agreed, returning with their new timetable, "Why, youve tackled a whole host of different jobs as far back as your Lancashire & Yorkshire days!"

Kate smiled. Her crew could always cheer her up, it seemed, regardless of the situation.

The last passenger came in, the porter banged the doors, and the guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag. Kate chuffed out of the station with her commuter train.

The L&YR tank engine went about her commuter runs without incident, and her goods duties were pleasantly uneventful. And when the time finally came for her to return to the sheds for the night, she was given a warm welcome from the main line engines, Reginald, Peter and Hugo in particular.

But while the engines of the North Western Railway would carry on with their duties, the threat of the Sudrian Saboteur was never far from their minds.


	6. Trouble

The Sudrian Saboteur

Chapter 6: Trouble

The morning after Kate was assigned to fill in for James saw soft winds, but grey clouds.

"Looks like might be in for some bad weather," she said, looking up at the sky.

"It makes no difference to us," Gordon huffed importantly as he made his way onto the turntable, "As the main line engines, we rise to whatever challenge the weather may present us."

"Here, here!" Peter grinned as his crew climbed into his cab and began steaming him up.

"Once, an engine attached to a train..." Carol grinned playfully.

"Oh, ha, ha, ha," grumbled Henry.

"Aren't you going, Dominic?" Kate asked, noticing that the Class 40 was already fueled up and purring comfortably, but was making no moves toward the turntable.

"I'm on relief duty today," he answered.

"Ah," Kate nodded before looking around, noticing two engines already absent even as Gordon left to collect the "Wild Nor' Wester."

"Where're Maggie and Murdoch?" She asked as Henry rolled onto the turntable.

"Maggie's left to pull the Vicarstown Comet, Kate," the green engine answered, "and Murdoch's taken the early morning goods train."

"I'm sure he's enjoying the peace and quiet," Hugo sniggered.

"Indeed," Reginald smirked, making his way onto the turntable, then leaving for the station once it aligned with the correct track.

Just then, Kate's driver and fireman walked up, carrying their timetable for the day.

"Good morning, Fred. Good morning, George," she smiled.

"Morning, old girl," Fred and George replied in unison as they climbed into her cab.

"It's mostly commuter runs for us today again," Fred said as Kate's fire was lit and built, "Unfortunately, we've also been slated to pull a football train."

"Must we?" Kate moaned. She'd heard about football trains, and didn't savor the thought of pulling one herself.

"Sad to say, we must," George sighed as he threw a shovelful of coal into Kate's fire.

The Lancashire & Yorkshire engine sighed as she left the sheds and made her way to the station.

Once she arrived at Knapford, Kate backed down onto her coaches and waited for her guard to blow his whistle and wave his green flag. Gordon, who was taking the Wild Nor' Wester, was on platform one. Reginald, who was pulling a stopping train, simmered on platform two, and Alice backed down onto the Branch Line Flyer on platform four.

"Good morning, Kate," Alice greeted warmly, as Daisy, Duck and Thomas arrived with their first passengers of the day, some of which boarded the Atlantic engine's train.

"Morning, Alice," Kate sighed as Reginald snorted out of the station after the guard blew his whistle and waved the green flag.

"What's the matter? Are the main line duties getting to you?"

"Oh, no, it's not that at all! I love working on the main line," Kate explained, "It's just that I have to take a football train later today."

"Oh, dear. You poor thing," Alice frowned sympathetically. She quite understood the unpleasantness of football trains.

Gordon left soon after with the express and it wasn't long before Alice was given the all clear as well. Blowing her whistle, Alice set off down the main line.

The Branch Line Flyer is a special semi-fast passenger service that stops at all the interchange stations along the main line. Alice usually took this train, and was quite proud of it.

Elsbridge was her first stop, making a connection to Thomas's branch line.

Arriving at the station, Alice whistled to Toby, who was waiting on the branch line side of the platform with Henrietta and a blue coach and brown luggage van she didn't recognize.

"Hello, Toby," she called as the tram engine rang his bell back.

"Good morning, Alice," he smiled.

"How're things on the branch line?"

"We're doing well. I'll tell you one thing, Lily's mood certainly improved when Douglas came back," Toby chuckled, earning a giggle from Alice and Henrietta as well.

"By the way," Alice said, addressing the blue coach and brown van behind Henrietta, "who are these two? I don't recall seeing them before?"

"Pardon me, I'm Victoria," answered the blue coach with a grin.

"Uh...hi...I'm Elsie," whispered the van.

"Oh, don't mind her," Henrietta soothed, "Our Elsie is quite shy, but she's a dear."

"That's quite alright," Alice smiled.

"How about you lot? How are things on the main line?"

"We're doing as well as we can, I suppose," Alice answered earnestly, "The Fat Controller's had Kate fill in for James until he's repaired."

"Ah. And how is she handling it?" Toby asked as the last of his passengers boarded.

"Very good so far," Alice replied just before her guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag.

Alice set off down the main line with a whistle goodbye and made her way to the next stop on her run, Wellsworth. The Atlantic engine arrived without incident and took the chance to make small talk with Edward as her passengers disembarked.

"Good day, Alice," Sodor's number 2 smiled.

"Good day to you," Alice returned, "How's your branch line?"

"Excellent, actually," Edward grinned, "Adam and I have passenger traffic well-managed, April and BoCo have the goods work locked down, Eric is a splendid banker, Rosie and Salty are keeping Brendam Docks in top form, and, if you can believe it, Timothy is actually able to make Bill and Ben listen to him now!"

"No! Really?"

"Indeed," the blue engine said, "BoCo was especially impressed when Timothy told the twins to organize his train, and they did without fuss."

"Well, I'm certainly proud of that little oil-burner," Alice smiled.

"As am I, Alice," Edward agreed.

The sound of the guard's whistle brought a frown to Alice's face as she remembered that her next stop was Killdane.

"Lord save me that I have to put up with the Peel Godred engines," she groaned, giving a farewell toot of her whistle.

"Best of luck, Alice," Edward called as Sodor's number 14 vanished from sight.

It wasn't long before he heard the whistle of his own guard and set off down his branch line. The countryside almost seemed to open up to welcome them as they made their way to Suddery, and Edward whistled as he passed by Adam trundling up the line with his own passenger train, who whistled back before disappearing around the bend.

Arriving at Suddery, Edward gently braked to a halt and those who got off at the island's capital thanked him for the ride as others boarded. Soon enough, the guard's whistle blew and Edward was on his way to Lower Suddery.

"Penny for your thoughts, old boy?" Edward's driver asked.

"Oh, I'm just enjoying the scenery, Charlie," Edward reassured, "I'm quite lucky to work on this branch line."

"Your shed mates could say the same," the fireman added, throwing in a shovelful of coal.

"Indeed they could, Sidney," Edward agreed, "and I'm grateful to have them."

Stopping at Lower Suddery, Edward and his crew observed the passengers. As he was pulling the school train this morning, the first coach on the train was reserved for the children going to Brendam Girls School, while the typical commuting passengers and tourists would ride in the coaches behind.

Finding that the passengers were aware of this arrangement as they filled in, Edward soon set off. Crock's Scrapyard soon came into view, where BoCo was having some of the trucks in his long goods train filled with the broken and rusted metal. The diesel gave Edward a cheerful toot of his horn as he passed, receiving a whistle in reply.

Edward arrived at Upper Brendam to pickup the last of the children, as Bertie would bring the rest up from Brendam itself. Setting off, the blue engine noticed something unusual.

"That's odd. April should have come through with her empty vans by now."

One of April's jobs on Edward's branch line is delivering lines of empty wagons to Brendam Docks, and the Class 15 was usually quite punctual with her delivery, but today, she was late.

"Perhaps her driver dawdled when fueling her up?" The fireman asked.

They soon got their answer as they pulled into the small hault that served Brendam Girls School, and the children disembarked just as April tore down the line with her train of empty vans.

"Careful, April!" Edward called.

"I know! I know!" April called back, disappearing down the line.

Edward felt concern for the diesel as he chuffed out of the hault as Bertie arrived from Brendam. The two exchanged a whistle and a honk as made his way to the last town on his branch line before he would head to the docks.

Dropping off and picking up passengers at the town of Brendam, Edward then made his way down to the bottom station at Brendam Docks. When he arrived, there was a loud crack and then a crash. Edward was uncoupled from his coaches and ran over to see what caused the commotion even as Rosie dashed off in the opposite direction.

It wasn't a pretty sight. April had burst through the buffers on one of the pier sidings, and was now laying cab-first in the open hull of a barge.

Emily, the diesel tugboat from Halifax who worked at the docks and was notable for always wearing a large blue fishing hat, had attached her tow rope to the barge to keep it steady.

"Good heavens! What happened?!" Edward exclaimed.

"Argh, April was bringing in her load of vans fer me an' Rosie to shunt, but the lass couldn't slow down in time, burst through the buffers and tobogganed right down into the barge's hull. Rosie's gone to fetch Rocky from the rescue centre," Salty explained.

"Easy, April, I've got you," Emily reassured the Class 15, who was in a state of hysteria.

"This barge won't hold for long! It's hull will crack, and then it'll split open and we'll both sink!" April cried out, shaking fearfully.

"Salty, lets you and I move the vans out of the way. Give Rocky more room to work when he gets here," Edward said.

"Right ye be, shipmate," Salty agreed as they set to work.

They had moved the last van out of the way just as Rosie returned with Rocky, who quickly set to work. The Fat Controller arrived just as Rocky had lifted April out of the barge and away from the water.

"Are you alright, April?" He asked.

"M-my n-n-nerves are sh-shot, S-s-sir," April stammered as Rocky gently lowered he onto the tracks. She was quite shaken from the calamity.

"Why didn't you slow down?" Rosie asked.

"M-my brakes j-j-just gave out," the diesel tried her best to elaborate as a quick inspection was conducted on her, "I w-was b-braking as I p-pulled into th-the docks, but then-then I f-felt this pain in-in my brake pipe and-and next thing I know, my brakes blow out and-and I'm running through the buffers!"

"She's right!" called the inspector, "There's a hole in her brake pipe. Looks like it was a man-made hole, too."

"Quite unsettling," the Fat Controller muttered to himself before turning around, deep in thought.

"Sir?" Rosie asked.

"I believe that this may be yet another attack by the saboteur that's been plaguing the railway as of late," he stated, "April, you'll be sent for repairs, but a more thorough inspection will be needed to confirm whether or not my suspicions are correct. Edward, could you take care of her goods duties for the rest of the day?"

"Of course, Sir," Edward said, and set to work.

"Now, April," the Fat Controller said, turning to the Class 15 diesel, "I want you to know that this wasn't your fault, but an engine should always be mindful of their speed."

"Yes, Sir," April sighed.

The Fat Controller walked into the dock master's office and used the telephone to make a call.

"Hullo. Yes. No. No. Yes, unfortunately. Is he there right now? He is? Good. I need him to come down to Brendam Docks. Yes, I know, that's why I'll be assigning another up there in his place. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Good day."

He hung up the phone and massaged his temples before making one more call, this time to the Dieselworks.

It wasn't long before Derek arrived at the docks with a concerned look on his face.

"Now, Derek, April needs to go to the works to be mended, and I need you to take her there," the Fat Controller said, "Once you've done that, you'll be assigned here to cover her duties until her repairs are finished."

"Yes, Sir," Derek replied, "but who will look after the coaling plant?"

"I've already assigned Sidney there. He'll be less likely to get lost and forget where he is if he stays in one area."

"Of course, Sir," Derek agreed as he backed down and buffered up to April, who looked quite downcast.

"There, there April," Derek soothed, "I'll get you to the works, and they'll fix you up in a jiffy."

And with that, Derek set off toward the Dieselworks.


	7. A Laugh at Arlesburgh

The Sudrian Saboteur

Chapter 7: A laugh at Arlesburgh

Once Derek reached the main line, he made his way to Wellsworth station so he could be turned around.

Eric, who had just acted as banker for a heavy goods train and was now shunting in the yard, was quite surprised.

"Derek? What're you doing here? And why are you towing April behind you?" The Gresley tank engine asked as Derek was uncoupled and ran onto the turntable.

"April had an accident at Brendam Docks," Derek explained as he was turned around, "I'm taking her to the Dieselworks."

"Oh," Eric said as Derek purred around April and was coupled back up.

"Could you give us a push, Eric?" The Class 17 asked, "This hill always causes problems for me."

"Right away," Eric smiled and buffered up behind April.

The two engines rode up the hill easily and Eric backed off once Derek began running down the other side, tooting his horn in thanks as he rumbled through Maron.

Throughout the rest of the journey, Derek tried to make small talk with April, but wasn't very successful, getting only short replies from the broken down Class 15.

That changed when they finally reached the Dieselworks in Vicarstown.

"Ah, hello, Derek," Den greeted warmly, "Is this the poor soul?"

"Hello, Den. Yes, she is."

"Excellent. Leave her there and we'll...um..."

"Take it from here?" Dart finished as he sidled up.

"Yes. Thank you, Dart," Den said.

"Hey, Derek?" April asked.

"Yes, April?"

"Um...thanks. For taking me to the works and trying to cheer me up. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Derek smiled as he left the Dieselworks.

The Class 17's next job was to take a light goods train to Killdane, and then travel light engine back to Wellsworth.

Arriving at the Vicarstown goods yard, Derek collected his train and set off.

When the Clayton diesel arrived at Killdane, his driver uncoupled the trucks and he shunted them into the sidings on the other side of the platform, where the tracks were covered with overhead lines. This was the Peel Godred branch line, where the electric engines worked.

Derek had finished shunting the trucks and was reversing back out onto the main line when a Class 71 electric engine in an unusual blue livery honked her horn as she rolled in. Derek was surprised. From what he'd heard, the Class 71's worked on the southern region on the mainland. What was one doing all the way up here?

He decided to introduce himself.

"Hello there, I'm Derek. What's your name?"

To the diesel's surprise the electric engine ignored him. Perhaps he had spoken too quietly.

"Hello," he tried again, a bit more loudly, "I'm-"

"I heard you the first time, diesel," she scowled, "and I don't care."

Derek was taken aback.

"Fat Hatt's well and truly mental," she continued, "Not only does that obese buffoon refuse to see sense and get rid of his steam engines, but he somehow thinks that having an absolute failure of a diesel like you in his fleet makes the railway up to date! Now, get back onto your line before you ruin my paint, you noisy, smokey, hideous oil-guzzling beast!"

Derek was speechless! His driver, however, wasn't.

¡Oye! ¡Has atrapado a la vaca! Where do you get off talking like that!?" She shouted, climbing out of Derek's cab and marching over once her diesel was back on the main line.

"I'm just putting that great green slug in his place," the engine sniffed, "His kind are an embarrassment to BR."

"At least he can go wherever the rails are! A battery box like you can only go where the wires lead! And don't even get me started on blackouts and bad weather!"

The electric engine spluttered. "Battery box?! Why I'll-!"

"OY! Jessica! You being horrid again?!" A voice shouted. Coming down the branch was another Class 71, this time painted green with yellow ends, pulling a short passenger train into the station.

"Oh, tosh, Lucy," the blue engine, now revealed to be Jessica, scoffed, "I'm just letting that ugly oil beast know-"

"That you're a prat and a horrid engine?" The green engine, named Lucy, snapped, "Because you've done a bang up job with that! Now, if you're done being you, kindly shove off!"

"Well, I never!" Jessica huffed as she scuttled away.

"I'm so sorry about Jessica," Lucy apologized.

"It's alright, Lucy, was it?" Derek smiled, "You did shut her up and get her to leave."

"Thanks," Lucy smiled as her passengers disembarked, "Unfortunately, she's not alone in her behavior."

"Oh, my. There's others?" Derek asked.

"Yep. There's four of us, including Jessica and myself. We're all the Class 71's. The other two are Desmond, a rude arse, and Carter, who's decent once you get past his hypochondria."

"Well, thanks for sticking up for Derek," his driver smiled as she climbed back into his cab as the signal dropped.

"Goodbye, Lucy!" Derek called as he rumbled away.

"Goodbye, Derek!" Lucy called back.

The Class 17 diesel made his way light engine up the main line, arriving at Wellsworth after some difficulty on Gordon's Hill. Then, he set to work on Edward's branch line. His first job was to collect some China Clay from the clay pits near Brendam.

When Derek arrived at the pits, he saw Bill and Ben, the tank engine twins and a small blue tank engine he hadn't seen before. He honked his horn to greet them.

"Derek?" Bill and Ben gasped upon seeing the diesel.

"Hello, you two," Derek smiled, "I understand there's a load of clay for me to deliver up to Wellsworth?"

"There is," the blue tank engine spoke up, "It's over in the nearby siding. I'm Timothy, by the way."

"Derek. It's nice to meet you."

"And you. Are your teeth feeling better?" Timothy asked.

"My teeth? Oh! You must be talking about my teething troubles!" Derek laughed.

Bill and Ben howled with laughter.

"Maybe you should take up dentistry, Timothy!" Bill snorted.

"Yeah! You can give Derek a proper checkup!" Ben hollered.

"Alright, very funny, you two," Timothy sighed, "now, back to work. There's more clay to be loaded and more deliveries to be made."

Bill and Ben, not finished basking in their humor, felt defiant.

"And why should we?" They retorted.

Timothy didn't falter and met their gaze.

"Because, if you don't, I'll tell Edward AND BoCo that you two were goofing off again."

The twins gasped in fright. "No! Not Edward AND BoCo!"

"W-we'll behave, Timothy!" Bill stammered, frantically reversing back into a line of empty trucks to push under the chute.

"Yeah! Hard workers! That's us!" Ben smiled nervously as he bolted off to shunt the trucks that Marion was loading.

"Now that that's out of the way, I'll fetch your trucks," Timothy smiled.

"Thank you," Derek smiled back as the oil-burning tank engine chuffed over to collect his trucks.

He returned quite soon.

"There you go, Derek. All set and ready for delivery."

"Thank you, Timothy." And Derek hummed away.

The diesel purred along the branch line, tooting hello to the other engines as he passed.

He soon arrived at Wellsworth, where he was told to shunt his clay trucks into a yard siding. As he went to the turntable, he heard two deep, booming whistles, and Donald and Douglas snorted down Gordon's Hill, hauling a heavy goods train with Eric pushing behind. They came to a stop at the station.

"Weel, as Ah sizzle an' steam! Derek! Lang time nae see!" Donald exclaimed.

"Hello, Donald! Hello, Douglas!" Derek smiled as he was turned around, "What brings you out onto the main line?"

"Ach, we cood say th' sam fur ye, Derek," Douglas replied, "Ah thooght ye waur workin' at th' coal mine while Kate covers fur James."

"Well, that's just it," Derek sighed, "The Saboteur's done it again. This time, April ran off the rails at the docks and fell into a barge. So, I'm covering her duties until she's mended."

"Losh sakes!" Donald burst out, "Nae anither attack! Thes mongrel is gonna rin th' railway intae th' ground!"

"I took her to the works myself earlier today. She'll be fine. But I'm a bit nervous," Derek admitted, "I've only ever really been to the clay pits. I'm not sure how to work the rest of the Brendam Branch."

"Ach. Dinnae fash yersel,' Derek," Douglas consoled, "Ye did a stoatin' job oan th' Little Western while Ah was bein' repaired, sae ye'll dae gran' 'ere oan Edward's branch line."

"Thank you, Douglas," Derek smiled.

"Say, Derek, woods ye min' puttin' thes china clay trucks ay yoors intae oor train? That's meant tae gang up tae Arlesburgh."

"Of course," Derek agreed and shunted his trucks onto the front of the twins train, then reversed back into the yard while the twins were coupled up.

"Best ay luck tae ye, Derek!" They whistled as they chuffed off up the main line.

Donald and Douglas were looking forward to returning to the Little Western. They had been sent all the way to Vicarstown to collect their train after delivering another to Crovan's Gate, and while they certainly weren't struggling, thirty trucks was nothing to sneeze at.

When they reached Knapford, where they were meant to set down several of their trucks, the twins whistled hello as Colin arrived to shunt the trucks they dropped.

"Hi, guys!" Colin whistled back as he began to shunt the rear trucks on their train into the various sidings.

"Ah see ye an' Philip hae kept Knapford in order," Donald grinned at his old LMS compatriot.

"Yes, we have!" The Peckett smiled, "Work gets busy, but Philip and I manage. What about you guys?"

"Aye, we're daein' jist braw up oan th' Little Western," Douglas replied.

The trio chatted until Colin had finished organizing their trucks, then whistled goodbye once their signal turned green.

As they rolled along the line, exchanging whistles with Duck at Tidmouth, the Scottish twins discussed the criminal the press had labeled as the "Sudrian Saboteur." They had heard several theories about who the Saboteur could be, but most had fallen through as the attacks continued.

The original and most widely accepted theories that he either worked for the Other Railway or was an extreme environmentalist were ruled out once April, a diesel, had her accident. And the idea that the saboteur was a soviet spy that a particular passenger had suggested was utterly ridiculous.

That left the idea that had been put forward by Edward and reached them by word of mouth. The idea being that the saboteur was a former railway employee with a grudge.

"It makes sense when ye hink abit it. Th' saboteur kent hoo tae wark th' points in mah case, an' he clearly kent abit th' midnecht goods train," Douglas said as they neared Arlesburgh.

"Och aye. Yoo're reit abit tha'," Donald agreed as they pulled into the goods yard, and saw Oliver standing at the nearby station platform with his two auto coaches, Isabel and Dulcie, and Daisy arguing with Rachel nearby.

"I keep telling you, Daisy, I'm perfectly happy with my duties here!"

"Rubbish!" Daisy sniffed, "Surely a lady such as yourself is wasted hauling nothing but goods trains!"

"Not at all! I'm a goods engine, it's what I were designed for!"

"Oh, you poor girl," Daisy sighed.

Rachel sighed frustratedly and was about to leave in a huff when she felt something funny in her smoke box.

"Ah...aahh...aaahhh...ACHOOOO!"

The collet's sneeze sent ash and soot flying out of her funnel and into the air, covering herself and Daisy.

Mike, who was at the station platform with a passenger train, began to chuckle at the sight.

"You know, Daisy, I don't think your name quite fits you at the moment," he sniggered, "They should call you ASH-ley!"

Donald, Douglas, Oliver, Isabel and Dulcie burst out laughing, and even Rachel couldn't suppress her giggles. Daisy, however, didn't think the situation was funny at all. She turned very red in the face, and was just about to let Rachel have a piece of her mind, when her signal turned green.

"Fiddlesticks!" She simply hissed and oiled away.


End file.
